


Beyond the Horizon

by stjarna



Series: The Horizon [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bus Kids - Freeform, Canon Compliant, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Inhumans - Freeform, Mild Smut, Possible Character Death, Possible Resurrection, Post-Hive, Set after Hive is defeated, Some bus kids, There will be a puppy, Will get less serious and more fluffy after the first few chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 01:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 13,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6883912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Begins with the epilogue of "Events on the Horizon". About three months after Hive has been defeated a familiar face appears on a security camera at one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s safe houses. But it shouldn't be possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you have read "Events on the Horizon" you could skip straight to Chapter 3.

Coulson sits in his office. The lights are turned off. A half-empty glass in his hand and a half-empty bottle of scotch in front of him. It has become an almost normal sight in the past three months.

_Scotch? Why scotch_? _Why do I do this to myself?_

He knows why.

It shouldn’t have happened. It didn’t make sense.

Everything had gone according to plan. Or, well, according to Plan B at least: Hive realizes Elena and Lincoln are not actually swayed but they still manage to overpower him.

It had worked. They had won the battle; maybe even the war.

They had found a cure for Daisy and the other inhumans. Maybe they hadn’t found a way to actually defeat Hive, but they had taken his army from him. They had taken the ability to sway inhumans from him. They had captured him and locked him away in the deepest darkest dungeon deep deep down.

_Stop with the alliteration, Coulson_ , he thinks to himself as he takes another sip.

The scotch leaves a burning sensation in his throat.

_Burning_.

He stares at nothing in particular, into nothingness, emptiness, just the empty space in his office.

_Space_.

He shakes his head trying to rid himself from the memories.

But his mind won’t let him. They haunt him. The images from the video feed.

Two lifeless human figures, covered in crackling black shells.

One in the pilot seat. Only his back visible.

The other one facing the camera. His face—covered in black—a look of shock and horror.

Then an explosion.

The two shells breaking up into a million pieces that rush toward the camera.

Then the transmission breaks off.

How had it happened?

It shouldn’t have happened. It didn’t make sense.

Coulson had insisted that they destroy the rest of the terrigen crystals.

“Shoot the damn things into space,” he had said.

Not everyone had agreed with him, but _dammit_ , he was the director.

Fitz argued that an unmanned rocket would be too risky. If anything went wrong, the terrigen would spread uncontrollably.

_You can take fish oil capsules off the shelves_ , he had said, _but you can’t really do that with the atmosphere, can you now?_

Fitz suggested sending a quinjet with a small team: a pilot and … well… himself, to release the contained crystals into space. Everything under control. No one at risk.

His argument was solid. His plan was solid.

How had it happened? What had gone wrong?

They still hadn’t figured it out exactly.

But it had gone wrong. So terribly wrong.

It didn’t make sense. Everything had gone according to plan. They had defeated Hive. This was just the aftermath, the clean-up. It should have been easy.

Coulson takes another sip.

_The scotch burns_.

He stares into nothingness.


	2. Chapter 2

His office door flings open. Daisy and Mack rush inside. They exchange knowing looks as they see the bottle of scotch on Coulson’s desk. Mack turns on the lights. Coulson’s eyes close, squint at the sudden sensation of light rushing in. He jumps up and forcefully puts down his glass.

“What the fuck?” he shouts, “This is my office! Don’t you at least knock?”

They ignore his words and the slurred, drunk sound of his voice. The past three months have been rough on all of them, but Coulson had taken Fitz’s and Agent Walter’s deaths particularly hard. They knew he felt guilty for okaying the mission, even though nobody else blamed him. Fitz’s plan had been solid. No sign of risk. The guilt had been eating on him, wearing him down. Not even May got through to him.

“Someone triggered an alarm in one of our safe houses,” Mack says.

“So what?” Coulson spews out. “Send a team to check on the situation. It’s fucking protocol!”

Mack and Daisy exchange looks.

“No, Sir. You  _have to_  see this!” she says and touches the tablet she has been carrying, to transfer the image to the big screen.

_Just leave! Why don’t you just leave? Leave me alone_ , Coulson thinks.

But he looks up.

His heart seems to stop beating. Or is it racing? He can’t tell.

He’s holding his breath.

He stares at the screen, at the image from the surveillance camera, at the familiar face.

“That’s impossible,” is all he can say.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the safe house.

He’s waiting in the surveillance room of the safe house in Suva, staring at the various monitors displaying different areas outside and inside of the house.

The air in the windowless room is muggy and thick. He hasn’t moved from his seat in hours. His shirt is clinging to his back.

_This is Fiji, for crying out loud! You’d think S.H.I.E.L.D. would have installed an A/C in this damn place,_ he thinks. _Stupid budget cuts_.

His eyes keep wandering from one monitor to the next. But it’s getting harder to focus.

He’s trying to remember when he last slept.

_Must have been at least 2 days_.

Sleep didn’t come easy to him these days.

Too much had happened. Too many strange and horrific images haunting him. Too many unanswered questions.

It had been 15 hours since he entered the safe house and triggered the alarm… deliberately, of course. He had made sure to look directly into the camera.

Yes, they probably didn’t believe their eyes (he sometimes still doesn’t believe his own) but he had to make sure that there was no doubt that it was him; or … well… at least someone who looked like him; to get their attention.

_They could have just sent a small team; someone stationed close by_ , he thinks.

A team that could have been here hours ago to check on the situation; possibly eliminate the threat.

_It’s a good sign I’ve been waiting this long. Probably means they’re sending someone from my team_ , he tries to reassure himself.

Another hour goes by. His eyes are getting heavier and heavier, but he forces himself to stay awake.

Suddenly, he sees movement on one of the monitors: dark figures rushing by the first camera at the front gates.

He knows they must have been watching him. He knows they are aware that he’s keeping an eye on the cameras. He knows they’ll just come right through the front door. No use trying to enter quietly.

He focuses on the second monitor. His face briefly lights up as he sees familiar faces: May and Daisy in front, followed by Mack, two more S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and Coulson himself.

Their next stop will be the front door.

He takes a deep breath and gets up from his chair.

His heart starts racing.

He looks at his hands, turns them slowly and views them from all sides. It has become a ritual.

They are shaking slightly, but they are there. He’s still there.

He hears the front door fling open as someone kicks it in.

_Probably May_ , he thinks.

He looks at the monitor displaying the entrance area. The team has taken formation by the front door. May’s hand is raised, signaling that everyone should remain silent.

He takes another deep breath, raises his hands above his head, and starts walking to the door of the surveillance room.

“Please, don’t shoot!” he says as loudly as possible. “I’m unarmed. My hands are raised. Please, don’t shoot! Please!”

He exits the surveillance room and walks into the entrance area. All weapons shift to his position. He sees their surprised and shocked faces; sees how they tighten their grips on their weapons.

_At least they brought icers_ , he thinks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy's POV.

Daisy is fixing her weapon on the man in front of her as she is taking in every detail of his appearance, his nervous movements.

 _It’s his face. It’s him_ , she thinks. _But it can’t be. It just can’t._

She wants it to be him so badly, but it’s just not possible. How could it be possible?

He looks slimmer than she remembers. Tired. Exhausted. Desperate. He’s wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt that’s at least two sizes too large. He is holding his arms over his head; like he said he would. She sees large sweat stains on his armpits.

 _Not exactly his usually attire_ , she thinks.

It can’t be him. It’s not possible… or is it?

She looks into his eyes; those blue familiar eyes. They are pleading.

“Please! Don’t shoot me,” she hears him repeat.

She has to know.

“Who are you?” she asks matter-of-factly.

He looks at her.

There’s a moment of silence.

“It’s me, Daisy…. Fitz.” he says.

His eyes are focused on her. She feels like they are screaming at her, begging her to believe him.

She wants to believe. But it’s not possible.

“Try again,” she hears May say through her teeth. Daisy glances to her side and sees May tightening the grip on her icer.

The tension in the room is almost tangible.

“I’m Agent Leopold Fitz,” he repeats, turning his eyes to May, “Please, Agent May, let me…”

“Fitz died.” Coulson says angrily, “We saw him die. The terrigen crystals killed him. Whoever you are, you’re not him!”

“Sir, I understand that you don’t believe me,” the man across from them says.

His arms are still raised. He’s speaking quickly, nervously.

“I didn’t believe it myself at first. I couldn’t understand it myself. I _still_ barely can. But, please,… _please_ give me a chance to _try_ and explain. The crystal didn’t kill me, Sir. … It transformed me.”

 

The room is silent for a moment as his words sink in.

 

“You’re inhuman?” Daisy finally mutters.

“We saw the shell break up,” May interjects. “It was empty. There was no one inside. You’re lying!”

“I’m _not_!” Fitz exclaims, trying to defend himself.

He immediately lowers his voice again.

“I’m _not_ lying,” he says more calmly. “The shell appeared empty. It’s my powers.”

“Invisibility?” It’s the first word Mack has said all day.

“Well, sort of,” Fitz tries to explain, but Coulson interrupts him.

“Even if that were true. Even if the crystal transformed you. Even if you’re inhuman. You were on a quinjet… that _exploded_ … in _space_. Inhuman or not. You could not have survived that! It’s impossible. You should be dead. _Fitz_ is _dead_!”

Fitz’s death was so painful for all of them. Accepting that the man in front of them is Fitz, only to maybe realize later that he isn’t. They just can’t risk that. They can’t risk living through that pain again. Especially not Coulson. Daisy knows he needs to hear more. They all do.

Daisy looks at the eyes of the man in front of her again. Fitz. One of her best friends. She wants it to be him.

He has tears in his eyes. His voice is shaking as he replies, “I know, Sir. I know. But I’m _not_. I’m _not_ dead.”

Slowly his voice is getting more secure again. Daisy is clinging to every word he says. She wants it to be true.

“I’ve _tried_ to figure out what happened, Sir. I don’t fully understand it, but my powers helped me survive. That’s all I know.”

“What are your powers, then?” Mack says.

Daisy can hear in Mack’s voice that he wants it to be their friend as well. Fitz. Turbo. Mack wants to make sense of it. Wants to believe. It’s just too hard to believe.

“It is a form of invisibility,” Fitz begins to explain. “My body… disintegrates… into particles, molecules, atoms… I don’t quite know. I can’t quite explain it. I disintegrate into these molecules but they’re still connected. They’re still a unit. I can think. I can see. I can feel. But I’m not one body, I’m … I… I just exist somehow.”

“You’re like Hive,” Daisy interjects, gripping her icer tighter at the reminder of the inhuman who enslaved her.

His arms rise a little higher. She can see that the comparison with Hive made him nervous.

“No, no, no… I mean, well, the multi-organism thing is similar—if that’s what’s really happening to me—but as far as I can tell the comparison ends there!”

“Still doesn’t explain how you survived an explosion in space and got back to earth.” Coulson says.

Daisy can hear that he’s not ready to drop the skepticism.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress.

_I’m trying to explain. If you would listen!_ Fitz thinks. His arms are killing him by now and the lack of sleep and sheer exhaustion is draining his last bit of energy.

He knew it would be hard. He knew they wouldn’t believe him. It was so unbelievable, even for himself.

 _Getting frustrated isn’t going to get you anywhere, Fitz_ , he tells himself. _Be patient. Try to be patient._

He tries to pull himself together.

“I _want_ to explain, Sir. I’m _trying_. _Please_!” he begs the Director.

Coulson’s face seems to soften… just a little… just enough.

“How?” he finally says, “How did you survive?”

There’s something in Coulson’s voice. Something that suggests that maybe he’s starting to believe him. Just the slightest hint.

“Sir,” he says softly, breathing noticeably as he is fighting his exhaustion, “I will tell you _everything_ but it’s a long story so could I _please_ lower my arms, Sir? _Please_.”

“Don’t even _think_ about it!” May barks. Her icer is still fixed directly on him.

He swallows and tightens his muscles, forcing himself to keep his arms up.

“May, come on!” he hears Daisy say.

“He’s a threat!” May replies sternly.

He listens as his arms slowly start to shake. His muscles are cramping up.

 _Pull yourself together,_ he tells himself. _Try!_

“Coulson?” he hears Daisy address the Director, a plea in her voice to grant Fitz’s request.

He feels sweat running down his back. _Probably not the lack of A/C this time around_ , he thinks.

His eyes are barely focusing on the people in front of him anymore. His entire body seems to redirect every last bit of energy to his arms. _Keep them up. Just keep them up!_

...

“Lower your arms.” Coulson says calmly.

Fitz manages to re-focus at the Director’s words. He notices that Coulson has lowered his icer. Daisy follows suit. Then Mack. Only May and the other two agents keep their weapons pointed at him.

Slowly, Fitz lets his arms drop to his side and takes a few deep breaths as shooting pains run down to his finger tips. Subconsciously, he begins massaging the sore muscles in his arms with his hands. He can feel his muscles relax and the relief allows him to regain some of his energy.

“Thank you, Sir,” he mutters.

Coulson nods.

“Now tell us what happened,” Coulson says. He pauses for a moment, “Fitz,” he adds.

Fitz feels tears shooting to his eyes at the sound of his own name.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened - Part 1

“After the crystal broke, I saw the mist rush toward me. I felt it stream through my body, felt the cocoon built around me, felt my body transform. It wasn’t painful, but it was … I’m not sure how to describe it…”

“Like millions of ants running through every single cell in your body?” Daisy adds knowingly.

He looks at her.

“Yes. That’s not a bad way to put it.”

He continues his story.

“I couldn’t see anything, but I heard the explosion. I heard it before I felt it. I felt the force of the blast pushing me forward. Then the cocoon broke and I saw the debris of the quinjet flying around me. I knew I was in space. I knew I should be dead. I knew all of that and yet I could see it all around me, I could feel it.”

“How?” Mack’s voice is calm. Fitz senses that Mack is not doubting it, he’s trying to understand.

“My powers… they’re like a defense mechanism.” he tries to explain, “I can’t control them. Well, _couldn’t_ control them. Okay, let’s be honest: I still barely can.”

He realizes that he’s starting to go on a tangent and re-focuses immediately.

“Whenever my body thinks I’m in danger, I disintegrate… become this entity… this unit. And when I’m in that state… well, these… particles don’t seem to need oxygen, or food, or anything. They just exist, just ensure that I survive.”

“When the explosion hit my cocoon, my powers must have activated instinctively and I disintegrated. As I said, I don’t know how, but even when I’m disintegrated, I still remain a unit. … The blast then forced me in the direction of Earth..… At least that’s the best working theory I have right now. I could feel myself floating through space. I could see Earth below me. I have no idea how long it took to reach the atmosphere. But from there, gravity took over and pulled me to earth.”

He has lowered his head, staring at nowhere in particular on the floor, pauses briefly as the memories flash before his eyes.

“What happened then?” May’s voice pulls him back to the now.

He looks up. She’s standing in the same spot, but her icer is pointed to the floor, her body is more relaxed, her eyes are softer.

He has a lump in his throat. He’s trying to breathe steadily, but once again, he can feel tears filling his eyes. He feels like his nightmare is slowly coming to an end.

He clears his throat before he continues talking.

“I landed in the ocean. I was floating on it, almost like being a part of it. My powers kept me disintegrated. Kept me alive. I wasn’t hungry, or thirsty, or tired. I just … I just _was_. I stopped counting days and nights at some point, but it was at least a week before I hit land.”

“Where?” Coulson asks.

“I had no idea.” Fitz replies, “Tropical. That was all I could tell at first. Once I hit the beach… once my body… or entity… or whatever… thought I was safe, I finally reappeared.”

He pauses.

“Aaaannnd, _that’s_ when hunger, thirst, and exhaustion kicked in all at once and when I realized that—unlike Gordon, for example—my powers were apparently restricted to my physical appearance.”

“You can’t extend your powers to other humans?” Mack asks.

“Well, I haven’t tested _that_ yet,” Fitz replies, “I was more referring to… well… objects… in my immediate vicinity.”

“What?” Coulson asks confused.

Daisy chimes in, a slight grin on her face, “His clothes don’t disintegrate or reintegrate with him.”

Coulson looks first at Daisy, then at Fitz, who knows he’s awaiting confirmation.

“Yep,” Fitz finally says, looking sheepishly at the floor, “Preeeeetty much.”

“So when you reintegrate, you are…” the Director gestures with his hands, indicating that Fitz should complete the sentence.

“…stark naked.” Fitz is still staring at a spot in front of him. He knew he would have to get to the embarrassing part of the story at some point.

He hears someone trying to suppress a giggle.

_Was that May?_ he thinks and looks back up.

"So, what did you do? How did you figure out where you were?” Mack asks, giving Fitz a chance to change the topic.

“Well, I don’t know if it was sheer dumb luck or if the whole survival mode of my powers had something to do with it, but I actually landed close to a small village. I could see some houses from where I had landed on the beach,” Fitz continues his story.

“I hid until it was dark, then snuck to one of the houses. I’m not exactly proud of it, but I broke in, stole some clothes, then raided the fridge. I managed to take off before anyone noticed me. Guess those spy skills finally paid off. ... It took me a few more days of scouting out the village at night though before I figured out where I was: Vanua Vatu.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened - Part 2

“Wanna whatnow?” Daisy asks confused.

“Vanua Vatu,” Coulson chimes in, “It’s one of the smallest Lau Islands in the Easter Division of Fiji.”  
  
“How do you even…?” Daisy asks.

“I’m the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. I know things!” Coulson interjects before she can finish her sentence. Then he turns to Fitz, “Fitz, it’s been three months. Why didn’t you try to contact us? Call us?”

“I _did_ , Sir,” Fitz replies, “but I couldn’t get through. You followed S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol, I assume.”

 “We deactivated your security code to get through to us,” Coulson realizes, “You were considered dead, not MIA…. God, I’m so sorry, Fitz.”

“It’s okay, Sir. It was the right thing to do. Plus, finding a halfway decent, secure phone connection on a remote tropical island wasn’t exactly easy to begin with. I quickly realized that breaking into a safe house was my best bet to get your attention. Just had to get to one first.”

“How’d you do it? Use your powers to float to another island?” Mack asks.

“I considered that. But it seemed too risky. I had no way of knowing where I would land. … No… I stole a boat and headed toward one of the bigger islands: Lakeba, about 30 miles out. And I can now safely say that I hate boats… at least small ones. My plan was to then try to get to the safe house in Suva as quickly as possible by bribing someone to fly me from Lakeba to Viti Levu, but when all you have is a pair of dirty sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, things get a bit … complicated. I had to get money, some kind of fake ID. Getting the tech for that kind of stuff took a while.”

He pauses for a moment, trying to decide whether he should tell that part of the story.

“Plus, there was an unfortunate incident that made me realize that I needed to get a better grip on my powers before I could get closer to actual city life.”

“What happened?” Coulson asks.

“I was raiding the fridge of an isolated house shortly after my arrival. The owner sort of caught me and startled me and … sooooo, I involuntarily disintegrated… for a moment and then reappeared… well… full frontal with my clothes lying at my feet.”

He hears another suppressed giggle.

_May? Again? Seriously?_

“I mean the guy was like 150. I’m glad he didn’t have a heart attack on the spot. I grabbed my clothes and made a run for it. … Then stayed on the down-low and tried to learn how to control my powers.”

“How did that work out?” Daisy inquires.

“Mediocre at best, I’d say. I can disintegrate at my own will now, although the whole involuntary defense mechanism thing still applies and the whole… well… nakedness thing is still a problem. I’ve managed to successfully disintegrated fabric close to my skin… _once._  So maybe with access to the right kind of tech, I could engineer something that could work, but right now… my success rate is less than desirable.”

“Show us your powers!”

Fitz stops, somewhat surprised by Coulson’s words.

“Sir?” he asks.

“I need to see your powers if you want me to believe your whole story. I need to know that it all really adds up,” the Director says firmly.

Fitz hesitates.

“You heard the part about him reappearing buck naked, right?” Mack interjects. “No offense, Turbo, but that’s not exactly a view I expected to see today.”

 _Not exactly a view I expected to show today either_ , Fitz thinks.

“Move behind the kitchen counter,” the Director suggests, “Worst case scenario: we see you topless.”

“ _That’s_ your worst case scenario?” May asks somewhat in disbelief.

 _Guess she hasn’t fully ruled out that I’m a threat after all_ , Fitz thinks.

Somewhat reluctantly, Fitz moves behind the kitchen counter. He knows he can’t get around it.

He sees everyone’s eyes fixed on him and takes a deep breath. He focuses on his hands. They disappear before his eyes, then he feels the rest of his body follow.

He sees their eyes getting bigger, sees their eyes wandering around the room, trying to figure out where exactly he went.

He concentrates and forces his individual particles to pull together, like activating a magnetic field until his body reappears.

He looks down.

 _Yep, naked. Of course_ , he sighs.

He doesn’t dare to move. Just stares at the people in front of him with their surprised and shocked faces. He’s waiting for a sign from them.

He sees Coulson nod at him; a silent permission to move.

Fitz bends down and picks up his clothes. He gets dressed, the kitchen counter shielding him from the others.

When he’s dressed, he slowly walks back from behind the counter.

He looks at them, but doesn’t quite know what to say.

His body language is signaling, pleading: _What now?_

Daisy begins to slowly walk toward him until she’s right in front of him. She stares directly into his eyes.

His heart is racing. His body is flooded with feelings: fear, sadness, happiness, relief.

She looks determined, like she wants to confirm the truth in his eyes. There are tears forming in her eyes.

He’s numb. He feels everything and nothing.

She slowly lifts her right arm and his body starts shaking when her hand touches his upper arm.

She pulls him into a hug and he breaks down. His body lets go of three months of loneliness, fear, exhaustion, and tension. He sobs uncontrollably as his friend holds him, keeps him safe, reassures him like he reassured her after she transformed.

“Welcome home, Fitz,” he hears her whisper quietly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How is she?

“Take Fitz’s specifications to the Zephyr and modify the containment module. We’ll be ready for pickup whenever you are,” Coulson says to May and Mack.

They’re standing at the front door of the safe house. Coulson hands Mack Fitz’s tablet, who turns around and heads to the car.

May stays behind.

“How do we know we can trust his specifications? Trust _him_?” she asks.

 _Always the voice of doubt and reason_ , Coulson thinks.

“We _don’t_ know,” Coulson replies, “But I believe him, Melinda. I know I could be wrong, but I believe him. Plus, the only person we _could_ trust to come up with the right specifications for his powers in any reasonable amount of time is Simmons.”

May nods.

“You gonna tell him?” she asks.

“I’ll have to,” Coulson answers, “It will come up soon enough.”

She nods again, then heads to the car.

Coulson takes a deep breath and heads back into the house.

Daisy is sitting next to Fitz on the couch, her hand resting on his back.

Fitz is staring at the coffee table. He is leaning slightly forward, his arms resting on his knees, his fingers absentmindedly playing with each other. He looks tired. His eyes are red. But he is calmer. The look of fear has disappeared.

Coulson sits down across from them and waits. Waits for Fitz to be ready. He knows it will come up. He knows there is a burning question on Fitz’s mind. And he knows he is not looking forward to answering it.

A few minutes of silence go by.

Fitz raises his head and looks at Coulson.

“How is she?” he finally asks.

Coulson exchanges looks with Daisy. He sees that she intuitively started stroking Fitz’s back, anticipating that the news might upset him; that she’ll need to comfort him.

Coulson takes a deep breath.

“We don’t know, Fitz.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened to Jemma?

Fitz is breathing faster; his eyes are blinking rapidly as Coulson’s words sink in.

But Fitz doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t ask anything. He looks at Coulson. His eyes are pleading for an explanation.

“After you… after the…,” Coulson has trouble figuring out how to talk about what happened.

“After the incident,” he finally says, “she came to my office and insisted on accompanying me to your mother.”

Fitz swallows hard, fighting back tears at the mention of his mother.

Coulson can only imagine too well what’s running through Fitz’s mind. The thoughts you have when you’re alive when you shouldn’t be, when someone you love was told you were dead, when you ponder and ponder whether you should tell them you’re alive, _how_ you should tell them you’re alive.

 _Aileen Fitz_ , Coulson’s mind drifts off, _she’ll be fine when they’ll tell her Fitz is alive_.

She had been exactly like he had imagined her: kind, humble, strong. She had cried at the news, of course, but it didn’t break her. He remembers how she reached over the table and grabbed Jemma’s hand, who had tears streaming down her face as Coulson recounted what had happened. “ _He’s alright_ ,” Aileen said, “ _I know he’s alright…. and you will be, too_.” Even in her darkest hour, losing her only son, she reached out to comfort someone else. Put the feelings and needs of others before her own. Fitz’s compassion for others always amazed Coulson. When he met Aileen, he realized where this compassion came from.

Coulson hears Daisy quietly clear her throat to get his attention and pulls away from his memories. He turns back to Fitz and continues.

“When we were in Scotland, Jemma asked to be allowed to stay with your mother for a while. She said she needed time… and I told her to take as much as she needed. After about a month, Daisy tried to contact her… no answer… We went back to your mother and she told us that Jemma had disappeared about two weeks earlier… left a note saying that she needed to get away from it all and asking your mom not to contact us… that she would be in touch with her once she was ready. Now either she hasn’t been in touch with your mother yet, or your mom is determined to keep her whereabouts a secret.”

“Probably both,” Fitz mutters quietly, still slightly hunched over.

“Jemma was thorough,” Daisy chimes in, “No trace to follow… S.H.I.E.L.D. taught her some tricks.”

“That’s true, but, quite frankly, I also saw no reason why we needed to track her down,” Coulson interjects, “I knew what she was going through. I knew what it’s like to want to get away. I felt like we should let her. That we owed her that much.”

“We might not have any idea where she is right now, Fitz,” Daisy says, “But we’ll look for her. Okay? Might take a while, but we’ll find her. We’ll …”

“Perthshire,” Fitz says so quietly, it’s barely audible.

“What?” Coulson and Daisy ask in unison.

Fitz straightens up and looks at both of them, “She’s in Perthshire.”

“Prussia?” Daisy asks confused.

“Perth-shire.” Fitz repeats, trying to enunciate more clearly, “County of _Perth_! We’ve been working together for _years_! How is it possible that you _still_ don’t understand me?”

Coulson smiles. _Fitz really **is** back_.

“Perth? As in Australia?” Apparently Daisy still hasn’t quite figured it out yet.

“Perthshire as in central Scotland. You’re a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, Daisy. Go read a map from time to time!” Coulson chimes in, unable to resist rubbing some more of his geography knowledge in.

“Why do you think she’s in Perthshire?” Coulson asks.

“It’s a personal story, Sir,” Fitz answers, “But I _know_ she’s there. I just know!”

“She’s too smart to put her face on a camera somewhere,” Daisy points out, “What do we do? Go knocking on every door in Per...the County of Perth?”

“We can probably narrow it down to just a few doors.” Coulson says, “Get access to rental agreements and house purchase contracts from the past two months in the county. Narrow it down to single women. That should shorten the list considerably.”

“And I’ll recognize her handwriting. That’ll shorten the list… well… down to one,” Fitz chimes in.

“Yeah, well, she’s probably using a fake name and contracts are not exactly written by hand anymore.” Daisy notes.

“I’ve deciphered her bloody squiggly handwriting on about five _billion_ little notes for more than a _decade_. Fake signature or not, I’ll recognize her handwriting!”

“Okay, okay,” Daisy admits defeat, “I’ll get right on it when we’re back at the base and I have access to the right tech.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perthshire

She breathes in the crisp spring air as she finishes her morning walk.

The weather has been gorgeous for the past few days. Still a bit cool, but almost entirely windless.

She feels the sun on her face, hears birds singing in the trees, hears the ground crunch with every step she and her companion take.

She smiles as the roof of her cottage comes into view. Her home that has given her a chance to find serenity.

The first few weeks after she had fled from Aileen felt like going through hell. The nightmares kept haunting her night after night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the same images. Every time she woke up—her sweaty clothes clinging to her body—she reached next to her and felt nothing but cold emptiness. There were moments when she felt more alone and isolated than on Maveth. And yet, she wanted to be alone, needed to be alone.

Then she saw his picture in the newspaper and she knew. She knew he was the one to help her through it. When she met him, he looked straight into her soul with his big brown eyes. There was no going back after that.

She is deep in thought as she walks up the final stretch of the little hill that her cottage is built on. A bark pulls her back into reality.

She looks up and sees the long elegant body of her furry friend slowly galloping toward the building, where a man is sitting on the front porch. He gets up as he sees the dog running towards him.

She recognizes him immediately and takes a deep breath.

 _You knew they’d find you_ _eventually_ , she thinks.

“ **Darwin! Heel!** ” she calls after the dog, who stops immediately, turns around, and trots back to her.

Slowly, she walks up to the house until she stands in front of Coulson.

“Sir!” she says, a shy but friendly smile on her face, “I’m surprised it took you so long."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tea, biscuits, and Darwin

Coulson is sitting in an armchair in the small but cozy living room. The room is sparsely decorated, but still emanates warmth.

Jemma comes in with a tray with tea and biscuits, her canine companion right behind her. She puts down the tray and hands Coulson one of the tea cups, then sits down across from him on the couch. The dog jumps onto the couch, curls up next to Jemma, and rests his head on her lap. She begins to pet him absentmindedly and he lets out a long grunt of approval.

“Beautiful dog,” Coulson breaks the silence.

She smiles.

“Yes, isn’t he?” she says, “The newspaper ran an article about the local animal shelter and his picture just caught my eye.”

“Well, he was probably hard to miss towering over everyone else,” Coulson jokes. “Scottish Deerhound, right?”

“Yes,” she replies, “I guess he’s a bit on the larger size, but…”

She continues petting the large, gray dog. Runs her hand through his wiry, thick fur. The repetitive motion and the dog’s presence help her relax as she ponders what Coulson has in store for her.

“But something about him… I don’t know… His eyes. His demeanor. … I think it somehow reminded me of …”

She can’t get herself to say the name. She rarely can.

“It’s silly, really. To think that he… that a dog could somehow be similar to…” She’s talking to herself more than to Coulson now.

“What did you call him earlier?” Coulson asks, “Darwin?”

“Yes,” Simmons replies as the Director’s question brings her back to reality, “Darwin. It’s what…well… what…”

She swallows. Then takes a deep breath.

“It’s what Fitz always said he would call the monkey he was going to get one day,” she says very quickly, then exhales sharply, relieved that she managed to jump that hurdle.

“He always thought it was a rather clever idea: calling a monkey Darwin. He was so fixated on this silly monkey idea.” She chuckles at the memory, but there is sadness in her laughter.

Coulson lets out a brief laugh himself.

“Well, I think getting a dog instead of a monkey was probably the smarter choice,” he says.

“Most certainly, yes,” Jemma replies a bit more cheery. “Plus, keeping a monkey in rural Scotland, or even finding one, would have been a bit… difficult and … well… easy to spot.”

Coulson takes the hint.

“I know you needed to get away, Jemma, and I respect that. Truth is, we probably could have found you a lot sooner if we had tried. But we didn’t try. I didn’t _want_ them to try. But the circumstances have changed, Jemma. I’ve thought long and hard about the best way to tell you and I’ve come to realize that there is no easy way to do this. The only thing I can do is tell you straight up.”

Her heart is racing as Coulson speaks. His tone frightens her. Whatever he has to say, she’s not prepared for it. She buries her hand in Darwin’s fur, trying to keep her composure.

Coulson takes a deep breath.

“Fitz is alive, Jemma,” Coulson says.

Her ears start ringing; the room spins around her as all the blood seems to rush out of her head. She feels like her body is turning to stone, her heart stops beating, she stops breathing.

Darwin, sensing his owner’s distress, lifts his head from her lap and gently nudges her. _You okay?_ he seems to ask.

The touch of her dog lets her snap out of her trance for a moment.

“It can’t be,” she mutters.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma reacts to the news.

She shakes her head.

“It can’t be. It _can’t_ be!”

She gets up. The sudden movement makes Darwin jump off the couch. The gentle giant looks puzzled.

“The crystal killed him. … His body turned to stone. … The explosion destroyed whatever was left of him!” Her voice gets louder with every sentence.

She sees the images flash before her eyes again, like she saw them every night for the first two months after it happened.

She had finally started to heal. Darwin had helped her heal. Slowly the images had gotten less vivid. Slowly they had stopped haunting her dreams. Slowly they had been replaced by happier memories of Fitz.

Now they came rushing back to her. Now she was reliving it again.

Adrenaline rushes through her body. Her muscles are tensing up. She’s shaking visibly, her body unsure how to channel all the emotions welling up inside of her. She wants to run, scream, throw something.

“I _saw_ him die,” she yells, “ _You_ saw him die! We _all_ saw him die.”

Coulson has gotten up from the armchair and is slowly walking towards her, his hands slightly raised to indicate that he wants her no harm.

“Listen, Jemma, please listen!” he says and gently puts his hands on her upper arms. His touch steadies her, stops the shaking, although her muscles are still tense.

She looks into his eyes, breathing heavily.

“I know you don’t believe me right now,” Coulson says, “Hell, I didn’t believe it at first either, but, let’s be honest here: We’ve seen crazier things happen! People thought _I_ was dead once…Well, actually, I _was_ dead! And Hive… He could revive the dead.”

She shakes off Coulson’s hands and tries to move away from him.

“You were on _Earth_ when you died. You had an entire _medical team_ to revive you. And Hive, he had _superpowers_ and was on a planet with a breathable atmosphere. Fitz died in _space_! The crystal _killed_ him and then he was _blown to pieces_! There’s _nothing_ left of him! _Nothing_ to revive. **_Nothing_**! Whatever or whoever you saw, it _wasn’t_ Fitz! Don’t give me false hope! **_Don’t_ give me _hope_! _Don’t!_** ” she screams the final words into Coulson’s face.

She never fully understood why May had asked her not to give her hope about Andrew before he transformed for the last time. Now she understood. Now she saw how hope made it more painful. How hope made it impossible to heal, impossible to let go. She didn’t want hope. There was no way. It couldn’t be. Coulson was letting himself be fooled.

She starts crying. Her body is numb again, and she sinks back down on the couch, burying her face in her hands.

“Don’t!” she whimpers.

Coulson sits down next to her. Part of her wants to stop him, but she’s too weak right now, too shook up.

“Jemma,” Coulson says softly.

She doesn’t look up. Just tries to calm her breathing. A wet, black dog nose begins sniffing her hands, but she gently pushes him away. Not even he can help her right now.

“Jemma,” Coulson repeats, then continues talking, “just listen. Hear me out! I’m not giving you false hope! I’m giving you the truth. Fitz wasn’t dead and then revived. He was never dead. What we saw wasn’t the crystal killing him. What we saw was his terrigenesis.”

Jemma uncovers her face and looks at the Director, tears still in her eyes.

“Fitz is inhuman and his powers allowed him to survive the explosion. He disintegrates into individual particles that do not need oxygen or food. That’s how he could survive in space. _None_ of us wanted to believe it at first. But his story pans out, Jemma. _Everything_ he has told us. And _every_ test we’ve run comes to the same result: That this _is_ Fitz.”

She swallows, blinks a few times. Her thoughts are racing. Contradicting emotions are tearing her apart. The theory Coulson presents is feasible, possible, _scientifically_ possible even. But losing Fitz once was hard enough. Was she willing to risk losing him again because someone made her believe the impossible was possible?

“Fitz figured you’d want more than my word for it,” Coulson interrupts her thoughts.

He reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small tablet.

“Daisy put all reports, test results, every bit of data we’ve gathered since Fitz got in touch with us on here… per his request.”

She stares at the tablet. Torn. Trying to figure out if it held the key to a second chance at happiness or just another stab at her heart.

“Fitz also recorded a message for you,” Coulson adds, still holding up the tablet in front of her.

She’s startled when Darwin—once again—nudges her to check in on how she’s doing. The big brown eyes look at her full of concern.

She involuntarily smiles and gently pets his head. The distraction allows her to reset, clear her mind long enough to make a decision.

She turns back to Coulson and grabs the tablet.

As soon as she holds the tablet in both hands, she is struck by fear again. Her heartbeat increases and her hands start shaking again.

She glances over at Darwin, takes a deep breath and taps the screen to turn it on.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz's message

Tears shoot into her eyes when Fitz’s face appears on the screen, behind him the white background of the isolation room.

“Jemma,” his familiar voice says softly, a hint of a smile on his lips and yet a sense of sadness in his tone.

She covers her mouth with her trembling right hand as the video message keeps rolling.

He pauses and looks down at his hands, then slowly back up.

“I’m not sure what to say, to be honest. … I mean… There’s so much I _want_ to say, _need_ to say, but… I wish I could say it to you in person.”

He pauses again and takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Jemma. … I’m sorry that I was so arrogant to think that my plan was foolproof; that there was no risk… I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I’m sorry for not leaving you with any hope.”

His voice has started to shake and he clears his throat.

“When the monolith took you, and people started telling me that I should let you go, that there was nothing to suggest you were still alive… I told them that there was nothing to suggest that you were dead either. I _couldn’t_ let go of you! I couldn’t let go of you until I had found proof either way. You still left me with hope, Jemma! … But I didn’t! I saw the video stream. I saw what you saw. … And I’m so sorry, Jemma. I’m so sorry for leaving you with nothing… nothing to hold on to. You always left me with a shimmer of hope, with something that kept me going, kept me fighting … kept me strong… and I let you down.”

He chokes up; tears in his eyes.

“When I opened my eyes… after the explosion… all I saw was space and Earth… and I didn’t understand… and I was scared… and then I thought of you, Jemma. I saw your face, heard your voice in my mind… and you were what kept me going. I know it was gravity that pulled me to Earth, but I kept thinking that it was you.”

“I know you have no reason to believe my words… my face. I understand if you don’t _want_ to believe me; if it’s easier to believe that I’m a liar, a fraud; if you’d rather want me to stay dead and allow you to move on and heal. I don’t want to cause you more pain, Jemma. I _never_ wanted to cause you pain!”

“But I’m hoping that you’ll read the reports. That maybe that’s enough to convince you to ask more question, run more tests. That maybe you’ll come back here and help me figure this out. I need to understand it! I _need_ to understand who I am now, what to do with my powers, and I can’t figure it out myself. They’ve run _every_ test they could think of here at the base… and every test _I_ could think of … and I keep telling them that you could get it all done in half the time and…”

His voice trembles again and he breaks off mid-sentence.

“I need you, Jemma. … Please, just… please, read the reports. Please, read the reports and draw your own conclusions and maybe … maybe it’ll be enough to bring you back to me.”

A single tear runs down his face and he wipes it away. Closes his eyes for a moment to collect himself.

“I love you, Jemma,” he says looking straight at the camera, and more quietly he adds, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

The recording stops.

Her hands have stopped shaking. She still has tears in her eyes, but her breathing is slow and regular.

Listening to his words, to his voice, has calmed her. She doesn’t quite understand why. She still doubts him, and yet believes him at the same time. Wants to believe. Wants the hope she rejected moments ago.

She swipes across the video to reveal the main screen of the tablet and begins skimming through the reports and test results.

She’s ignoring Coulson, who is still sitting by her side, not saying a word.

She’s ignoring Darwin, who is still standing next to her with his brown, concerned eyes fixed on her.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed when she finally looks up, turns to Coulson and says: “When do we leave?”

Coulson smiles at her, “Whenever you’re ready! May’s waiting with the Zephyr in a field close by.”

Jemma stands up, ready to throw a few clothes into a bag and call it packed and ready-to-go.

 _Fitz would probably call it ‘Very un-Jemma-like,’_ she thinks, with an optimistic smile on her face.

But her path is blocked: Coulson on one side, coffee table in front of her, and Darwin to her other side.

She looks at the Scottish Deerhound, whose tail started wagging as soon as Jemma got up, as soon as he sensed that her mood has improved.

She takes a deep breath and turns to Coulson.

“What’s S.H.I.E.L.D.’s policy on dogs, Sir?”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma returns to the base.

Mack and Daisy are standing in the hangar when the Zephyr arrives.

Daisy shifts somewhat nervously from one foot to the other. She has missed Jemma; the only BFF she’s ever had; although she hated the term BFF. She often thought that their relationship worked so well because neither had much experience—or interest—in the typical girly friendship-realm. Daisy being too skeptical to fully trust people after being shoved from foster home to foster home; Jemma too bookish and nerdy to talk nail polish and boy bands. They didn’t _have_ to be typical BFF. They were more like two extremely different sisters, loving each other with all their differences and flaws; talking about what was on their minds, about what scared them, what made them happy; forgiving each other when they screwed up. And Daisy had missed all of that since Jemma left.

The ramp to the Zephyr opens.

Darwin—impressive, gray, furry—trots slowly and curiously down the ramp.

“ _Holy shit_! She got a dog!” Daisy exclaims excitedly and the dog immediately heads in her direction, wagging his tail and following the excited tone in her voice.

“That’s not a _dog_. That’s a _horse_!” Mack mumbles, looking skeptical at the large canine.

Daisy bends down to welcome Darwin (not that she has to bend very far). She starts petting him vigorously, oohing and aahing over him.

“Who’s a good boy? … Yes, _you are_!”

Jemma and Coulson appear on the ramp to the Zephyr and slowly walk toward Mack and Daisy.

“What kind of mad scientist have _you_ become? Experiment gone wrong or something?” Mack teases Simmons.

“ _Hey!_ ” Daisy interjects, raising her index finger at Mack, “He’s a Scottish Deerhound! And he’s gorgeous! And you say _one_ _more_ thing against him, and I’ll quake you!”

“Okay, okay,” Mack says and shakes his head. Then he turns to Jemma and smiles.

“Welcome back, Jemma.”

He hugs her tightly and the petit scientist almost disappears in his embrace.

Coulson turns to Daisy, “Can’t find Fiji on a map, but knows what a Scottish Deerhound is?”

“Yeah, well, dogs are _much_ more interesting than maps,” Daisy defends herself, “Plus, my dad’s a veterinarian… sort of.”

She finally pulls herself away from Darwin and turns to Jemma, who is smiling at her shyly.

“Daisy!” Jemma says quietly with a hint of guilt in her voice.

Daisy ignores the guilty tone and instead pulls Jemma into a hug.

“It’s good to have you back, Jemma!” she says and pats Jemma on the back.

She can feel her friend’s body relax in her embrace; can sense the smile on her face.

Daisy pulls away, “Should we drop your stuff off at your room and I’ll take you straight to Fitz?” she asks.

Simmons hesitates for a moment and takes a deep breath.

“No,” she says firmly and pauses, “I don’t think I’m quite ready to talk to him yet.”

She turns to Coulson and asks, “Does he know? … That I’m coming?”

“No,” Coulson replies, “I wanted that to be _your_ decision.”

Jemma pauses and thinks for a moment, then addresses Coulson once again.

“Tell him that I’m here. … That I need more time. … Hopefully, he’ll understand.”

“You know he will,” Mack chimes in and Simmons smiles.

“I’ll go and tell him right away,” Coulson says, “You and Daisy go and get yourself settled back in.”

“I’ll come with you, Sir,” Mack adds.

Daisy and Jemma watch the two men leave when Daisy feels a furry nudge on her hand.

She looks down and sees two big brown eyes staring back at her, begging for more pets.

She calls after Coulson, “So, is the dog going to stay? He’s going to stay, right? Coulson? _Coulson!_ ”

Jemma reassuringly puts her hand on Daisy’s shoulder.

“I believe Coulson intends to ignore any existing S.H.I.E.L.D. regulations prohibiting pets,” she says, “His exact words were: I’m not going to tell a 110-pound dog with fangs the size of my pinky that he’s not welcome here. I already lost _one_ arm, I can’t afford to lose the other.”

The two women chuckle while Darwin stands next to them wagging his tail.

“So,” Daisy finally says, “If you’re not ready to _talk_ to him yet, do you at least want to _see_ him? I can bring you to the surveillance room.”

A smile appears on Jemma’s face.

“Yes,” she says, “I think I would like that.”

“Then let’s get you settled and watch some Fitz-TV!” Daisy says cheerily, “We can try to spook him through the intercoms and see if he’ll spontaneously disappear and reappear naked again!”

Jemma looks at her with a look of reproach, “Oh no, you didn’t actually do that, did you?”

Daisy looks sheepishly at her friend, “No… no, of course not.”

“ _Daisy??_ ” Jemma says sternly.

“Only once, we only did it _once_! Well… twice.”

“ _We??_ ” Jemma asks, her eyes wide open.

“It was May’s idea actually,” Daisy admits.

“ ** _May???_** ”

“Yeah, I think she was peeved that she cried in front of people because of him.”

“Oh for _heavens_ sake! How old _are_ you?” Jemma scolds her friend. “This stops _right now_! How would _you_ feel if you showed up _naked_ every time you used _your_ powers?”

“You’re right!” Daisy says apologetically, “You’re right. It was juvenile and mean and we won’t do it again! I swear!”

“I _can’t_ believe you and May would _do_ such a thing. _Seriously_ , Daisy!”

“Again, really: I’m sorry! I… I don’t know what we were thinking. …Everything had been so fucked up in the past few months and he was back and we… we just wanted to laugh again. Like in the old times: pranks and stuff. I don’t know. … It was stupid! … I’ll apologize to him! I swear! Okay? I’m sorry.”

“Good!” Jemma says firmly, ready to drop the topic.

“I _will_ say though, Jemma,” Daisy says with a big grin on her face, “You’re a lucky girl! Mighty Scotsman!”

“ ** _Daisy?!?_** ” Jemma exclaims, her cheeks turning bright red.

Then she starts laughing. The most genuine, happy, carefree laughter; so contagious that Daisy can’t help but join in.

Darwin stands in front of the two laughing women; his head slightly tilted to one side; his tail gently wagging.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The apology.

Fitz is sitting on the couch in the white isolation room, reading, when the sound of the sliding door interrupts him. He looks up and sees Daisy standing in the door.

“Hey,” Fitz says and puts his tablet down.

“Hey there,” Daisy smiles, but there’s something strange about her smile.

She slowly comes in and sits down on the armchair next to the couch.

“Coulson was here?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Fitz replies, “And Mack. They told me. … She needs time. … I get that.”

Daisy nods.

“She’s watching you though,” she says, “She asked me to tell you that.”

Fitz’s face lights up and he looks up to the closest surveillance camera.

“So,” Daisy starts the conversation, “Lincoln says the prototype for your suit is almost ready?”

“Yes,” Fitz takes his eyes from the surveillance camera and turns to Daisy, “Not exactly thrilled about the prospect of wearing a skintight suit, but on the other hand I can’t wait for it. Should put an end to people trying to scare me naked … literally.”

Daisy takes a deep breath.

“Yeah,” she begins hesitantly, “That’s kinda why I came here.”

Fitz looks at her questioningly.

“That was me, Fitz,” Daisy admits.

“ _What??_ ”

“…and May,” she adds quickly.

Fitz buries his face in his hands in disbelief.

“I _knew_ that was her giggling at the safe house,” he mumbles.

“I’m so, _so_ sorry, Fitz! I don’t even know where to begin with my apology, but I’m so, _so_ sorry…. I think we just kinda wanted some normalcy… and playing pranks used to be normalcy… used to be fun. But this was dumb, and mean, and we shouldn’t have done it at your expense, and I’m sorry.”

Fitz looks back at Daisy.

“You know I’ll get you back for that,” he says and grins.

Daisy smiles back, “Yeah, good luck with that!”

For a moment, the two friends smile at each other.

“May? _Really?_ ” Fitz finally asks, still a bit shocked.

“Yep,” Daisy says, “It was her idea, actually. … And if Jemma yells at May only half as much as she yelled at me, then you’ll probably soon get an apology from her as well.”

“Jemma made you apologize?” Fitz smirks.

“Well, she made me realize what an ass I’ve been.”

“Yeah, she’s good at that,” Fitz says, then adds. “Did she use the Hermione Granger tone?”

He pauses for a second, “And if you tell her that I compared her to Hermione Granger, I’ll make sure you suffer!”

Daisy laughs, “You’re lucky we’ve set the surveillance cameras to video only! … And, _yes_ , that’s exactly the tone she used. It’s _really_ effective.”

They laugh again.

“I’m glad she came,” Fitz finally says.

“I know,” Daisy adds. Then her face lights up. “Did Coulson tell you she got a _dog_?”

“What? _Really?_ ” Fitz replies surprised.

“Yes,” Daisy says excitedly, “and he’s here on the base! … He’s _so_ gorgeous, Fitz! A Scottish Deerhound.”

“ _Really?_ They’re _huge_!!” Fitz points out.

“Yes,” Daisy can barely contain her excitement, “I think Mack’s scared of him,” she laughs.

“His name is Darwin,” she adds.

“Like my monkey?” Fitz interjects, a big happy smile on his face.

“Woah,” Daisy holds up her hands defensively, “Dude! T.M.I.!”

“What?” Fitz asks confused, when it dawns on him what Daisy _thought_ he referred to.

“No!” he exclaims, “Nonono! My _monkey_! The monkey I’ve always wanted for the _lab_! I was going to call him Darwin. _Jeez_ , Daisy! What the hell?”

“Ohhh,” Daisy exclaims in a relieved tone, “That’s better… I guess.”

For a moment they stare at each other.

“T.M.I.” Fitz repeats quietly, shaking his head at the absurdity of what Daisy had implied.

“ _Why_ the hell would I call it ‘my monkey’?” he finally says, “And _why_ would I call it ‘my monkey’ and then call ‘my monkey’ Darwin??”

He can’t hold back his laughter any longer.

“What the hell do _I_ know what you crazy scientists call your bits?” Daisy tries to defend herself, snorting with laughter.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surveillance

She’s sitting at the table, watching him through the surveillance cameras. The table is covered in reports and test results.

 _Gosh, this chair is uncomfortable_ , she thinks.

She stretches her arms and twists her sore back.

Darwin is curled up by her side on a blanket on the floor. He briefly lifts his head when she starts moving, but puts it back down when he realizes that she’s not actually getting up.

She focuses back on the screens in front of her, but turns around when she hears the door open.

Mack smiles at her, “Hey.”

“Hey,” she returns the smile.

He pulls up a chair and sits down next to her.

“How’s Turbo doing today?”

“He was training with Lincoln earlier,” she says, “Seems to be going very well.”

“Do you ever move from this spot?” Mack teases her.

She rolls her eyes, “Of course!”

Then she adds hesitantly, “I sleep, and …eat, and… take Darwin out for walks.”

He chuckles briefly as she admits that she has practically been glued to the surveillance room since she arrived at the base.

“Still not ready to talk to him yet?” Mack asks.

She sighs.

“No… not yet.”

“It’s been a week,” Mack notes.

“I know,” she says, still staring at the screens where Fitz is sitting on the couch, reading, like he does most of the time when he’s by himself in the isolation room.

“I’m just not…not quite.”

“What’s _he_ saying about all this?” Mack asks, gesturing towards Darwin with his head.

Jemma raises her eyebrows and notes, “He’s a _dog_! He doesn’t _say_ anything.”

“You know what I mean,” Mack replies.

 _Yes, I know what you mean_ , she thinks.

She takes a deep breath.

“He says that I’m…,” she begins, “ _stupid_. … That I’m a _coward_ for not going to him… That every report and test _proves_ that it’s him… That he’s _really_ here and _alive_ and I should be _excited_ and …”

She pauses for a moment.

“But I can’t,” tears start forming in her eyes as she continues, “This stupid curse. … I always teased him about his _stupid_ curse idea, but he was right. We’re cursed and the cosmos _is_ trying to keep us apart and I’m afraid that if I go to him, if I talk to him, if I … if I’m _with_ him, then the cosmos will tear us apart _again_ … and I just don’t know how much more of that I can take. … I can’t … I just…”

“Heyheyhey,” Mack interrupts her, putting his hand on her shoulder to calm her.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Jemma,” he says and the deep, calm tone of his voice allows her to somewhat relax as she listens.

“The cosmos _isn’t_ keeping you apart,” Mack says, “I read all the reports. Think about it. That crap alien virus you got? Jumping out of an airplane? You should have been dead right there! But you survived.”

“Because _Ward_ jumped after me,” Simmons chimes in, still bugged by the fact that she kept needing others to save her.

“Because _you_ and Fitz found an antidote. Ward jumping after you wouldn’t have helped if you guys hadn’t figured out a cure first! You survived, because of _your own_ skills!”

She smiles shyly. Somehow that had never occurred to her.

Mack continues, “And Fitz should have died when Ward dropped you two into the ocean. But you two found a way out, and _you_ saved his life!”

“Well, he saved _mine_ , too,” Jemma mumbles.

“You were sucked to the other side of the galaxy,” Mack’s not done yet, “Survived six months on another planet. And you guys found a way back to each other. Fitz jumped through a wormhole and came back to you. And now he survived an explosion in _space_? … You two were close to death so many times, ripped apart, and yet, here you are: both of you still alive. If the cosmos _is_ trying to keep you guys apart, it’s doing a lousy job.”

Jemma chuckles sadly at his comment.

“If you’re asking _me_ , you two are just too damn good to let the cosmos dictate anything,” Mack continues, “I’m mean. Fitz is a hell of a smart cookie. And _you_? Come on. You’re a lot smarter and tougher than you give yourself credit for. I mean, _hell_ , I don’t know how you can dissect people and all that shit. That alone takes gut!”

“Well, it’s really just training, and …” Jemma tries to interject humbly.

“Don’t try to argue with me, Slice’n’dice!” Mack interrupts her.

Jemma chuckles, “Slice’n’dice?”

“Yeah, well, I give people nicknames,” Mack laughs, “Never noticed that?”

“But ‘Slice’n’dice’??? How about ‘Labcoat’? I think I might actually prefer that,” Jemma suggests.

“You don’t get to choose your own nickname. That’s not how it works,” Mack teases her.

Then he adds, “Look, Jemma. If you’re not ready yet, you’re not ready yet. But right now, you’re staying away from him because you’re afraid of losing him. … Do you realize how _stupid_ that sounds?”

She looks at him, then looks to the floor, “Well… when you put it like _that_.”

“Yeah, _that’s_ how I put it,” he says, “Look, I’ve lost plenty of people I cared about… too many maybe… but in retrospective I’ve always thought that I’d rather spend time with them and lose them than to look back at my life one day and regret that I didn’t take the chance to be with them because I was too afraid of what could go wrong.”

She glances at the screens and sees Fitz, still sitting on the couch, his feet on the table, a tablet in his hand. She has tears in her eyes.

Mack stands up and pats her on the shoulder, “Alright… I promised Turbo to play some video games with him…. Just think about it, Jemma. That’s all I’m saying.”

She smiles and nods, then turns back to the video screens as Mack heads toward the door.

“Hey,” Mack gets her attention and points at Darwin, “I don’t know _what_ goes on in this gigantic head of his, but one thing’s for sure: He doesn’t think you’re stupid!”

“Thanks, Mack,” she replies gratefully.

“Sure thing, Slice’n’dice!” he says and leaves.

She involuntarily smiles at the ridiculous new nickname.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit for the "Slice'n'Dice" nickname goes to my husband.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends playing video games.

They’re sitting next to each other, staring at the TV screen, clenching their control pads. Their fingers moving quickly over the various buttons.

“One thing’s for sure,” Mack notes as he maneuvers his video game character to do a roundhouse kick, “Your powers have done _nothing_ to improve your game, Turbo.”

“Nope,” Fitz replies, trying to keep his focus while he speaks, “All they do is make me invisible to others then reappear naked.”

His character tries in vain to avoid Mack’s attack and falls to the ground.

“Basically, it’s every nightmare I ever had as a teenager.”

Mack chuckles.

“Well, the naked thing is getting better since you got your new threads at least,” Mack says, as his figure performs another martial arts move, “Lincoln said your success-rate in disintegrating and reintegrating yourself _and_ your suit has increased exponentially in the last two days.”

“Yes, there’s that,” Fitz replies, trying not to think about how many times Lincoln has seen him naked by now. The two have come to a silent agreement simply not to talk about it.

“Looks pretty good on you, too! Tough!” Mack states, looking over at Fitz’s tight black suit.

“You flirting with me?” Fitz teases, and manages to avoid one of Mack’s kicks, “’Cause I think Elena might have something against that.”

Mack laughs, blocking a low kick, “And you wouldn’t?”

“Nah,” Fitz replies, “I’d be flattered.”

His figure throws another punch at Mack’s.

“Though I’d have to turn you down… of course,” Fitz adds, “My heart belongs to someone else.”

Mack looks over to Fitz, his hands with the control pad resting in his lap.

“This conversation has taken a _weeeeiiird_ turn,” he mumbles.

He looks back at the screen when the speakers blast cheers and applause. His figure is lying on the ground; Fitz’s character posing triumphantly.

“What the…?” he mumbles and looks back to Fitz who is grinning from ear to ear.

“Guess my powers have done something for my game after all!”

“I want a rematch!” Mack points at Fitz, “ _Now!_ ”

“Oh, _come on_!” Fitz interjects, “It’s the bloody first time I’ve defeated you. Let me enjoy my victory for a day!”

The sound of the sliding door opening interrupts their playful quarreling.

Fitz looks to the door and jumps up from the couch immediately.

“Jemma!” he says excitedly.

She smiles when Fitz says her name.

For a moment, they both stare at each other in silence.

“Hey, Slice’n’dice,” Mack says and gets up from the couch, “Finally made up your mind, eh?”

She chuckles.

Fitz looks at him, “What did you just call her?” he asks confused.

“None of your damn business,” Mack says jokingly.

Fitz is still staring at him.

Mack pats his friend on the shoulder and says, “I’ll give you two some privacy.”

He gestures to the surveillance cameras and adds, “I’ll turn them off.”

“They’re security protocol!” Fitz tries to interject.

“Turbo,” Mack says calmly, “I’ve got news for you: At this very moment, you’re the only one still insisting on those damn security protocols. We all believe you! We all _trust_ you! It’s time you start trusting yourself again! Got it?”

Fitz nods.

Mack turns around and heads for the door. He places his hand on Jemma’s shoulder in passing. “Good choice, Jemma!”

She smiles at him and takes one step inside the isolation room. The sliding doors close behind her.

They’re alone.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion.

She looks at him. Unable to talk.

He smiles shyly and she senses that he’s uncertain of what to do himself.

“Slice’n’dice?” he finally asks.

She chuckles.

“He finally found a nickname for me,” she explains, grateful for Fitz’s attempt to break the silence, “’Cause I’m so good at dissecting things. … Apparently I don’t have a say in it.”

He laughs.

“It’s good to see you,” he says.

She smiles.

“It’s good to… talk to you,” she admits, aware that he knows she has been able to see him over the surveillance cameras.

“Do you want to sit down? Talk?” he asks, gesturing at the couch.

She takes a deep breath.

“I don’t think I can,” she says.

“Oh,” he replies, a hint of disappointment in his voice, “That’s okay. … I understand… Maybe next time. … I don’t want to rush you.”

“No,” she interjects, “I want to. It’s…”

She takes another deep breath.

“I think I’m actually frozen to this spot,” she finally admits, “It’s ridiculous, I know.”

“Oh,” Fitz says, noticeably relieved, “Maybe…”

He gestures between himself and her.

“Maybe I could come over to you then?”

Her face lights up.

“Yes, that might be best!”

He slowly walks over to her.

Her heart starts racing when he stands in front of her.

She slowly raises her hand. It is shaking.

There’s a hint of a smile on his face, an invitation, encouragement.

Her fingertips gently touch his temple and tears rush to her eyes at the sensation; at the familiar feeling she has yearned for, that she thought she had lost forever.

She runs her fingers through his hair.

Her other hand reaches up as well and cups his face.

She looks into his blue eyes, glassy from the tears he is trying to hold back.

The last remains of fear and doubt have disappeared. He’s here, alive, with her.

“Fitz,” she whispers and kisses him gently; butterflies in her stomach as their lips meet after months apart.

She pulls back for a moment to look at him again.

They smile at each other.

Fitz reaches out his hands, cups her face, and kisses her.

She places her hands on his waist.

His lips are soft, eager.

 _We can’t waste any more time_ , she remembers.

Her hands glide around his waist, up his back to his shoulder blades. She pulls him closer, as their kiss intensifies.

Suddenly an energy rushes through her; a strange, intoxicating sensation that seems to take her breath away.

Her face is tingling where his hands touch her.

“I love you, Jemma” she hears his voice, like a faint echo in her mind.

She briefly opens her eyes. She sees nothing. But still feels his hands on her cheeks, his lips on hers. Feels his yearning. Feels him, his love.

She closes her eyes again and gives into the sensation.

Suddenly it stops.

She opens her eyes.

Fitz has reappeared in front of her; a look of shock on his face. His hands are raised. He is breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry,” he says out of breath.

He’s looking at his trembling hands.

“I didn’t mean to… I would never…”

He takes a few steps back, bringing distance between himself and Jemma.

“I didn’t know this would happen…,” he’s struggling to find words, “I don’t want to invade your thoughts… control you…”

He pauses.

“I’m like Hive,” he finally says, shocked at the realization.

“Fitz,” she tries to get his attention but he doesn’t seem to hear her.

He’s hyperventilating, his eyes searching the room, like someone being hunted, trying to find an escape.

She quickly walks up to him and cups his face with her hand, forces him to look at her.

“Fitz,” she says calmly but firmly, looking directly into his eyes, “You’re _not_ like Hive! You’re _nothing_ like Hive!”

He’s trying to evade her look, but she won’t let him.

“You didn’t hurt me, or possess me, Fitz. You didn’t make me do your bidding, force me to follow your agenda. You didn’t drug me like Hive did with Daisy,” she says and adds quietly, “I could hear _your_ thoughts, feel _your_ feelings. That’s not what being controlled feels like, Fitz. It felt more like… sharing.”

His eyes are still filled with fear.

She continues to speak, her hands caressing his cheeks, his temples, reassuring him.

“It wasn’t frightening, or threatening, Fitz. I _know_ you would never hurt me. I _know_ you would never invade someone’s privacy. … I think your powers sensed that we already have a connection … we’ve _always_ had that connection… maybe your powers just latched on to something that was already there and transformed it into something … more. I’m not afraid of that, Fitz. I _want_ that connection.”

Her hands run through his hair.

“I lost you, Fitz,” she says, her voice shaking, “And it felt like the explosion that ripped you apart, ripped out a piece of myself.”

She catches a tear that is running down his cheek with her thumb.

“But you’re _here_ now,” she adds, “And I’m _done_ being afraid of accepting that. Yes, these powers have changed you, but you’re still _you_! I _know_ you are! You asked me to read the reports, ask more questions, run more tests. … And I did _all_ of that! You’re still _you_! And you’re _here_ and I won’t let the cosmos mess with us again. I won’t!”

A smile rushes over his face and disappears just as quickly.

“Do you remember our conversation after we first slept together?” she asks, her eyes fixed on his, “You told me about Daisy’s vision. … You said that if it was one of _us_ who was about to die, you would want to make sure we made every moment count. … Do you remember that?”

He nods.

“Your powers don’t scare me. You were able to read my mind long before this, Leopold Fitz.” she says and smiles at him, “I have no secrets from you. I don’t _want_ to. … All I want is make every moment count, Fitz! _Every_ moment,” she says determined.

She takes a few steps back and begins to slowly unbutton her blouse, sliding it over her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground.

He is standing in front of her, breathing heavily. His look is a mix of fearfulness and longing.

She slips off her shoes, then unzips her pants, and takes them off; never taking her eyes off him.

He takes a step closer but stops himself.

She opens the clasp of her bra and it drops to the ground.

Standing in front of him in nothing but a pair of silky purple panties, she can see hesitation in his eyes.

Slowly, she takes of her underpants and walks up to him.

She touches his face with her hand.

“It’s okay,” she whispers and smiles, “I know I’m safe.”

She gently kisses him and the touch is enough to make him give into his desires.

He pulls her closer and returns the kiss. His hands glide down her back as his tongue eagerly explores her mouth.

Her hands reach for the zipper to his suit and pull it open. Slowly she slides the skintight fabric off his torso.

He pulls himself away from her and takes a step back. She can see in his face that his mind is racing, that he’s still struggling with himself, still afraid he could somehow hurt her.

“Fitz,” she says and smiles at him, “I know what I want.”

His body seems to relax at her words and he begins to smile.

He strips down the suit and steps closer.

He raises his hands; hesitation slowing down his movements.

He pauses.

Jemma smiles at him, encourages him, but allows him to explore this new part of himself, these new powers at his own pace.

He leans in and kisses her, his hands framing her face, yet not touching her.

He pulls back, looks into her eyes, and smiles.

He cups her face and leans in for another kiss.

Her lips are longing for his.

The energy she felt earlier reoccurs as he disintegrates, as his cells seem to merge with hers, as their thoughts, their feelings become one.

She gives into the sensation, which is like nothing she has ever felt before.

She feels the energy slowly retract and sees his face when she opens her eyes.

His left hand glides from her shoulder down her chest, gently brushing her breast. She follows his movement with her eyes. Sees how his hand suddenly disappears and feels its energy rush into her at the same time. She closes her eyes and inhales sharply as the sensation fills her body.

He reappears again. His hands now resting on her shoulders, gliding down her arms.

She reaches around his neck and slowly moves backwards, pulling him toward the bed.

They’re kissing eagerly, their hands exploring each other.

She lies down on her back. He leans over her. His breathing is heavy. He looks into her eyes.

She feels his hand glide down her torso, down her stomach, as she loses herself in his blue eyes.

He leans down and kisses her lips, kisses her neck; his lips are soft and warm.

She moans when his hand slowly glides between her legs; gasps when she feels the still unfamiliar but electrifying sensation again; more intense than before.

She opens her eyes. She can’t see him but she feels him in every cell of her body, closer to him than she ever thought possible. They’re truly one.

She closes her eyes and allows herself to be lost in waves of ecstasy as he reappears, his hands touching her, the weight of his body on hers, then disappears to fill her with nothing but energy, fill her with lust, with love.

Her breathing quickens as she reaches her climax.


	19. Epilogue

Jemma wakes up; her sweaty shirt clinging to her torso. She’s breathing heavily.

The moon shines through the window.

Slowly, her eyes get used to the darkness and she recognizes her surroundings: her cottage.

She reaches next to her and feels emptiness.

Fear overcomes her.

She sits up, turns on her bedside lamp, and looks around. The room is empty.

Tears form in her eyes.

She hears a sound from the hallway and listens nervously.

She exhales sharply, relieved when Fitz appears in the door.

“Where have you been?” she asks anxiously.

Fitz gestures to the hallway, a confused look on his face, “In the bathroom.”

“Oh,” she says, still breathing heavily.

He comes to her side of the bed and sits down so he can face her.

“What’s wrong?” he asks concerned.

“Nothing,” she tries to brush it off, but his face tells her that he’s not buying her lie.

“I just…,” she sighs, “I woke up from a nightmare… _the_ nightmare… and then you weren’t there… and I… I thought that maybe the past few months had just been a dream. I know it’s silly,” she adds, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“No it’s not,” he says quietly, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and gently stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“But I’m right here, okay? Everything’s okay!”

She closes her eyes briefly when she feels his hand touching her mind, sharing his thoughts, sharing his presence.

She opens her eyes, smiles, and nods.

He gets up, walks to his side of the bed, and slips back under the covers. He rolls to his side to face her and tries to get comfy.

“Shall we try to get some more sleep in, before we have to head back to the base tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yes,” she sighs.

She turns off the light, and lies back down on her side, facing him.

“Could you promise me something, Fitz?” she says after a few seconds of silence.

“Anything,” he says.

His hand is gently gliding up and down her arm to comfort her. The moonlight shining through the window allows her to make out enough of his face to see his smile.

“Don’t go to the bathroom again tonight,” she says.

He laughs.

“I mean it, Fitz. Please,” she adds seriously.

He looks directly at her in the dark.

“Okay,” he says sincerely, “I won’t go to the bathroom again tonight!”

“Thanks,” she says gratefully.

“But then _you_ have to tell your dog, who’s insisting on sleeping in the bed, not to use my bladder as a pillow,” Fitz notes.

Jemma smiles.

She reaches over to touch Fitz’s face with her hand; his stubbles feel rough against her skin.

“ _Our_ dog!” she says.

He smiles back at her.

“Alright, Dr. Simmons,” he says, “ _Our_ dog.”

“Mrs. Dr. Simmons,” Jemma insists.

“Too wordy” Fitz interjects.

He grabs her left hand and looks at it.

“Maybe we _should_ have gotten rings,” he contemplates and lets his hand disappear, merging with hers for just a moment, “then you could have just looked at your hand and would have known that the past few months were not an illusion.”

“I don’t need a _ring_ to remember that I married you,” Jemma replies, “And with all the chemicals and tools we work with… any kind of precious metal object just seems impractical.”

“Alright then, Mrs. Dr. Simmons,” Fitz says and tries to shift into a more comfortable position, “How about that sleep now?”

“Sounds like a wonderful idea,” Jemma replies and watches him close his eyes.

She takes a deep breath, letting the feeling of happiness rush through her.

She rolls onto her stomach. Then closes her eyes.

She has almost drifted off to sleep when she feels a thud on the bed, followed by a loud groan.

“ ** _Ugh!_** Darwin!” Fitz exclaims.

“You okay?” Jemma inquires sleepily, barely opening her eyes.

“ _Ugh_. Yup. Sure.” Fitz replies, quietly moaning in pain, “But _if_ you ever wanted to have kids, Darwin may have just ruined it!”

She chuckles.

“I have plenty of experience as a medical doctor,” she says, “I’m sure I can fix that.”

She closes her eyes again and slowly drifts off to sleep.

The moon shines through the curtains.

Serenity fills the room, radiates to the horizon… and beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
